


like it was the first time

by LFTPD



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: 5+1 Things, Blow Jobs, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Premature Ejaculation, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28363389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFTPD/pseuds/LFTPD
Summary: “Oh my god.” Patrick groans, hiding his face against David’s chest. It would almost be comical if it weren’t so embarrassing. How does this keep happening?“None of that,” David says, the thumb on his clean hand rubbing soothing circles over Patrick’s hip. “Besides, I don’t think it counts as coming in your pants if your dick was already out.”aka, a 5 and 1 about Patrick coming in his pants
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 50
Kudos: 317





	like it was the first time

The first time it happens is the worst because it’s so completely unexpected.

They’ve just come back from Elmdale after their third date. David had the Lincoln that night, so he’d offered to drive Patrick back to Ray’s. Their first two dates had both ended with nothing more than a brief kiss, but when David pulls up to Ray’s place all of the lights in the house are off. It’s the closest thing they’ve had to privacy since they started dating.

“Ray must’ve gone to bed early,” Patrick says as he unbuckles his seatbelt. He turns to David, and the next thing he knows they’re kissing. Patrick doesn’t know who started it. David wraps his arms around him, pulling him close despite the awkwardness of the cramped space.

They’ve kissed a few times since their first, but they’ve all been relatively chaste. Patrick keeps expecting David to take the lead and heat things up a little, but he never does. He’s committed to keeping things at Patrick’s pace. Patrick asked for slow, so they’ve been going slow.

Even the briefest kisses with David are intoxicating. He’s not sure how it’s possible, but somehow Patrick feels more kissing David than he’s ever felt during full-on sex. He knows how easy it would be to get lost in it; that’s part of the reason he’d asked to go slowly. That still hasn’t changed, but Patrick wants more. He might be ready to speed up, if only a little.

“Can I—” he pulls away to ask, and David’s already nodding.

“Yes, anything, take what you want,” he breathes, pressing soft kisses to Patrick’s jaw.

Patrick isn’t ready to think about everything that ‘anything’ could entail, but he’s ready to take what he wants. He settles his hand on David’s jaw, tilting his head so their lips can meet again. David lets out a soft, content sound, and that’s all Patrick needs. He parts his lips slightly, his tongue barely brushing over David’s plush upper lip. How does he manage to keep his lips so soft? He wonders if he should start using the lip scrub they carry at the store.

David opens for him, and all of Patrick’s thoughts fly out of his head. Now they’re really kissing, and it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. His fingers slide into David’s hair unconsciously, desperate to pull David closer.

David’s so close to him now. The air in the car feels thick, and the smell of David’s cologne is nearly intoxicating. Patrick’s brain is a constant stream of _more more more_. There’s a sharp scrape of stubble against Patrick’s face every time David moves his head. Patrick’s never thought about stubble before, but now he’s realizing it’s the hottest thing he’s ever felt. What would that stubble feel like dragging against his neck? Or, god, against his thighs? He moans against David’s mouth at the thought.

“Wait,” David says, pulling back from Patrick. Patrick nearly whines, trying to follow David’s lips. “I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry,” David tells him as he squeezes Patrick’s side. Patrick can hear the amusement in his voice. David doesn’t look half as desperate as Patrick feels. “I want to—here.”

David pulls on something underneath him, and suddenly the entire bench seat moves back. “Now we’ve got some room,” David says with a shimmy that should not be as sexy as it is.

“No wonder you’re the idea man,” Patrick says. He’s moving before he has the chance to think it through. He swings his leg over David’s lap with just enough room between their hips to almost be decent. His fingers tangle in David’s hair and he lets himself drag his cheek against David’s before they start kissing again. _Fuck_ , this is good.

Patrick’s never done this before. He’s kissed in cars before, back when he and Rachel were teenagers parking at an overlook to cop a feel. It had never been like this, though. Patrick had never felt so desperate after nothing more than a few kisses. He’d never been straining his jeans from the feeling of lips dragging against the thin skin on his neck. He’d never straddled someone’s lap before. He feels so small in David’s arms, and somehow even that is doing something for him. It’s a whirlwind of sensation, mixed with the fact that it’s happening with someone he’s absolutely crazy for. He has to fight to keep his hips still; he doesn’t want David to know how wrecked he already is.

“You’re gorgeous like this.” David’s voice is lower than he’s ever heard it. He keeps kissing down Patrick’s neck, the slightest hint of teeth making Patrick’s eyes roll back. David’s hands move down his back, stopping right above the curve of his ass. He brings their lips together frantically, shoving his tongue into David’s mouth and moaning when David sucks on it. His fingers are probably too tight in David’s hair and he tries to loosen them, but he’s too close to falling apart to latch onto that thought for long.

David’s hand slips to his hip, squeezing slightly, and then it’s rubbing the outside of his leg. He’s so close to Patrick’s dick, and Patrick’s hyper-aware of the warmth of David’s hand as it moves in slow lines down his jeans. _Touch me_ , Patrick thinks, but he can’t get the words out. He can’t pull back from David’s perfect mouth long enough to say anything.

And then—then David’s fingers are sliding over the curve of Patrick’s leg. He’s closer to his knee than his dick, but his fingers skim the sensitive skin of Patrick’s inner thigh and even through his jeans it’s too much. Patrick bucks forward without thinking, grinding against David for one glorious moment, and then he’s coming harder than he ever has in his entire life.

David stills underneath him, and as the orgasm recedes Patrick’s hit with what just happened. His face is burning, and he tries to pull away from David only to run into the steering wheel. He can’t meet David’s eyes; his own are starting to sting with hot tears of embarrassment. He won’t let them fall. He’s not going to add crying after sex to coming in his pants like a teenager on tonight’s list of humiliation.

“Did you—“ David asks as Patrick finally manages to climb off of his lap.

“Can we pretend I didn’t and never talk about it again?” Patrick hates how much his voice shakes. He squeezes his eyes shut. It takes everything in him not to pull open the passenger door and bolt towards the house.

“Hey, no, don’t freak out,” David says. Patrick feels his hand stroking the side of his arm. “I mean, that’s basically a compliment? And kind of hot, if I’m being honest.”

Patrick drags his hands over his face taking a deep breath to try to calm his frantic heartbeat. “Nothing about that was hot,” he groans. “That’s—god, I’ve never been this embarrassed in my life.”

“Okay, but you have nothing to be embarrassed about?” Patrick almost hates how nice David’s being about this whole thing. It would be easier if David was freaking out too. At least then he’d have an excuse to get out of the car without them having to talk about it.

“Agree to disagree,” Patrick bites out. He shifts on the seat, and he can feel how sticky his boxers are. It’s disgusting, and it brings another wave of shame over him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t, uh. That’s never happened to me before.”

“So even more of a compliment then,” David says, and he sounds almost smug. Patrick whips his head around, meeting David’s face.

“I’m sorry, are you proud of yourself?” Patrick demands, offended. It’s one of the worst moments of Patrick’s life, and David has a shit-eating grin on his face.

“A little?” David says with a half-smile. “Like, that’s a new record for me. I barely even touched you!”

“I know!” Patrick groans. David reaches out, wrapping his arms around Patrick and pulling him close.

“We don’t have to talk about this ever again if you don’t want to,” David says, pressing a kiss to his temple. “But before we pretend it never happened, I’d like to say that I had a great time, and I’m already looking forward to our next date.”

Patrick grumbles a little more, but he’s feeling a little less raw by the time he leaves David’s car. He heads straight to the shower, and by the time he’s cleaning up he’s nearly pushed the incident out of his head. It was a fluke, probably because it was his first time making out with David. He’s going to get used to it, and then he’ll be fine. This isn’t going to happen again.

* * *

It happens again.

Patrick’s done everything right. He’s started jerking off more than he ever has. Even when he was a teenager he’d only managed once a day; he’d never understood why his friends talked about jerking off constantly. For as long as he can remember, jerking off has been a means to an end for him, not something he prolongs or spends much time thinking about.

Until David.

After Patrick embarrasses himself in David’s car, he starts taking preventative measures. He jerks off before he goes to pick David up on dates, even if it doesn’t seem like the type of date that will lead to a makeout session. (Eventually, he’ll realize that every date with David leads to a makeout session.) Patrick’s a little embarrassed that it’s necessary, but he can’t argue with the results. They keep making out, and he’s able to hold himself together. He still feels desperate by the time they finally peel apart and go their separate ways, but he’s able to wait until he gets to the privacy of the bathroom before he shoves a hand in his pants. It’s progress.

They decided early on that the store was off-limits for anything more than light kisses. Patrick had thought he needed a sharp divide between work and pleasure, so he’d insisted on it and David had readily agreed. He was always willing to follow Patrick’s lead.

Unsurprisingly, it’s Patrick who breaks his own rule.

“Patrick, are you sure?” David breathes. Patrick really hadn’t meant to start anything. They’d finished closing and David had gone to the back to get his bag. Patrick had leaned against the wall as he waited for David, offering him a ride back to the motel like he did most nights. David had walked over, pressing a soft kiss to Patrick’s lips in thanks. It wasn’t the type of kiss that usually led to more, but the next thing Patrick knew he was gripping David’s back and pulling him closer. “You said we couldn’t in—“

“I’m very sure,” Patrick murmurs back, sucking David’s lip into his mouth. They’ve never kissed against a wall before, and the second he’d felt David leaning over him he’d been gone. David isn’t really that much taller than him, but it’s more of a height difference than Patrick’s ever had. David takes a step forward and Patrick’s pressed against the wall, and it’s everything.

“I love how you get,” David breathes. He drags his mouth over Patrick’s jaw, sucking lightly underneath his ear. “It’s so easy to make you flustered.”

Patrick’s only response is an embarrassingly loud moan. He pushes David’s sweater up, letting his fingers drag against David’s skin. They’ve done under-the-shirt a few times now, but Patrick’s still not used to how much David’s chest hair turns him on.

“Can’t help it when you’re this hot,” Patrick groans. He’s proud of himself for getting the words out, prouder when he feels David’s lips curl into a grin against his neck.

“Can I?” David asks, tapping his hand against the buttons of Patrick’s shirt.

Patrick nods immediately, but David’s made it clear how he feels about enthusiastic verbal consent, so he swallows and manages to say, “Please, David.” It comes out closer to begging than he’d meant, but David starts working over his buttons so he can’t bring himself to care.

David’s fingers are deft and coordinated, and Patrick’s standing there bare-chested in what feels like seconds. His fingers slide over Patrick’s small patch of chest hair, and Patrick can’t help but think about how those clever fingers might move somewhere else. He tips his head back against the wall, suddenly desperately, achingly hard.

David murmurs something that Patrick can’t quite catch, and then his mouth is back on his neck. He keeps his kisses light and teasing, letting his tongue dart out to drag against him a few times. It’s good, mind-blowingly good, which is Patrick’s excuse as to why it takes him so long to realize what’s about to happen.

David’s mouth trails down further. His fingers brush over Patrick’s nipple right as his mouth latches down on his collarbone, sucking what will probably end up as a generous bruise into the skin. Patrick’s hands stutter on David, unable to do anything but lean back and enjoy the ride. He’s throbbing in his jeans, but he’s learned to ignore that after two weeks of heated makeout sessions with David.

David shifts a little, and then his leg is in between Patrick’s legs. There’s a little bit of distance between them, but it would be so easy for Patrick to press forward and just _take_. David would let him; David wouldn’t have moved his leg if it wasn’t an invitation. David wants Patrick to set the pace, he’s said that several times now. So if Patrick’s ready for a little grinding, there’s no reason he can’t have it.

It’s not like he’s at risk of coming, Patrick thinks as he finally presses his hip forward. The pressure is light, but it still rips a moan out of his chest. David’s hard. David’s hard because of Patrick. Patrick did that, and thinking about that is almost as hot as the way David’s fingers are playing over his nipples.

“I never—“ Patrick starts, but then he has to suck in a deep breath. David’s nail drags over the tight bud of his nipple, and Patrick wants to bask in that feeling for the rest of his life. “God, David—I never knew my nipples were so—“

“That’s one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard,” David says, and for the first time, his voice sounds a little affected too. David wants him, and Patrick wants him to want him, and—

David’s mouth keeps moving down. His tongue peeks out, lapping around Patrick’s nipple. Patrick’s mind whites out. He’s sucking in heaving breaths, trying to keep his head together. He’s suddenly on the edge, and it doesn’t make any sense. He thought he was past this.

Except, fuck. This isn’t the end of a date. It’s the end of a workday, which means Patrick hasn’t jerked off since the night before. He knows he needs to stop them. He needs to push David back and take deep breaths until he’s not seconds away from coming. His hands move up David’s chest, but he can’t force himself to push away. Not when David’s tongue feels so good. Not when, _fuck_ , when his lips are curling around Patrick’s nipple and he’s sucking to the rhythm of Patrick’s hips against his.

Patrick comes with a broken moan, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. He can feel himself twitching against the bulge in David’s pants, which means there’s no way David didn’t notice. It’s as awful as the first time, except—

Except, David keeps pressing light kisses to Patrick’s chest. His hands rub up and down Patrick’s ribs, soothing and grounding at the same time.

“You have no idea,” David says, his voice growly in that way that makes Patrick’s knees weak, “how many times I’m going to jerk off to that, holy fuck.”

Patrick’s eyes snap open. David reaches up, kissing him hard and hot and messy. “If these pants didn’t cost me more than we made all week, I’d be grinding myself off on your thigh right now,” David says. Patrick’s sticky and over-sensitive, but that’s hot enough that his cock almost musters up for round two.

“I guess that means I won’t apologize,” Patrick manages to say. His face is flushed, but at this point, it’s probably half embarrassment and half the fact that David’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

“Don’t you dare,” David says, grinding against Patrick’s thigh one last time before he steps away. “I need a minute,” he says, pulling his sweater back down. “Maybe you can clean up while I calm down?”

“Thank you,” Patrick says, brushing a soft kiss to David’s cheek. He doesn’t know how, but somehow David’s made this all okay.

When he gets to the bathroom, he sees that David really had left a bruise on his collarbone. Patrick presses his thumb into it, grinning in the mirror. He’s going to remember this night as the first time David gave him a hickey, and ignore the coming in his pants part.

* * *

Once they break the no make-outs in the store rule they never look back. Patrick gets used to the feeling of David pressing him against the wall, just as he gets used to how David moans when Patrick’s pressing him against the wall. There are a couple of close calls, but Patrick’s getting better at knowing his limits. Not enough to get cocky, but enough to make a plan.

He knows that David doesn’t care about him coming too soon. David finds it hot, even, which is hard for Patrick to wrap his head around, but he believes it. Even still, Patrick’s planning on taking the next step, and he wants to set himself up for success. He takes them back to the store after a date, which is definitely not subtle, but Patrick’s not willing to risk getting arrested for public indecency because he got too carried away in the back of one of their cars.

“You look determined,” David says with a little wiggle when Patrick pushes him up against the back wall. “That look in your eye is really doing something for me.”

“Noted,” Patrick says with a little grin. He’s learning how much fun sex can be, although he’s not sure if he can call what they’ve been doing sex yet. Maybe after tonight, he thinks.

They make out for a while until they’re both rocking against each other. Patrick can feel how hard David is, and it makes his mouth water. He’s not ready for that yet, but god, he wants it. He’s been pressed up against David enough times to have a really good idea of how big he is. He can’t wait to see for himself.

“I want,” Patrick says, sliding his hand down to cup over David’s dick in his jeans. “David, can I jerk you off?”

“Fuck yes,” David says, kissing him fiercely. It distracts Patrick for a few moments, but then he’s back at his goal.

“How many buttons do these pants have?” Patrick accuses when he pops open the first button just to be met with another instead of a zipper.

“Okay, well, if I knew you were going to be getting in them tonight I might’ve worn different pants!” David takes mercy on him, undoing the rest of his buttons and shoving his pants down his hips. They’re nearly skin tight—and that could not have been fun, given how hard David is—which means Patrick gets to watch his bulge move as David shimmies them down.

“Jesus,” Patrick breathes. He slides his hand over David’s briefs. He’s so hot under his hand, and Patrick can feel the ridge of the head of his cock underneath the fabric. David lets out a little sound when his thumb brushes over it, and Patrick can’t wait any longer. He shoves David’s underwear down, and then David’s cock is finally in his hand. He’s gorgeous; even in the dim lighting of the backroom, Patrick can see that. He’s circumcised, and thicker than Patrick is. Probably longer too, but instead of feeling insecure about it, he’s hit with a strong burst of lust. He can’t wait to have David inside him, and wow, that’s a thought. Patrick hadn’t known he wanted that, but now it’s the only thought running through his mind.

“Wait, let me grab—” David pulls away, leaning over to grab his bag where it’s perched on one of the cabinets. He fishes around in one of the pockets, pulling out a bottle of lube with a triumphant grin.

“Have you been carrying that with you just in case?” Patrick teases. He takes the lube from David, flipping open the cap and pouring some into his hand.

“Are you really complaining about me being prepared right now?”

Patrick laughs, but then his hand is curling around David’s cock and laughter is the last thing on his mind. It’s nothing like holding his own cock, and it takes him a moment to figure out the angle. David bites his lip, watching Patrick’s hand move with lust-blown eyes. He’s so responsive. Patrick learns from every hitch in his breathing, every minute thrust of his hips. Patrick hadn’t expected how powerful he’d feel. He’s so in control; he’s the reason David is falling apart.

And David is definitely falling apart. His gaze never wavers, but his stream of profanity shifts into wordless moans. Patrick learns exactly how to twist his hand, how much pressure to use, the way David cries out when he slides his thumb underneath that little ridge. He wants to keep watching David’s gorgeous cock sliding in his hand, but he also wants to kiss him. He settles for mouthing over David’s neck, his head tilted so he can still sort of see. He can feel David’s chest moving as he breathes, and it’s overwhelming. It’s only a handjob. Patrick’s had hundreds of handjobs. They’ve never felt anything like this.

“I’m close,” David breathes. Patrick’s not sure how long it’s been. It feels like hours, feels like he can’t remember a time before he knew what David’s cock felt like in his hand. He sinks his teeth into David’s shoulder, and David cries out. He thrusts into Patrick’s hand, harder and harder. Patrick can’t help but think about those hips fucking into him, and he grinds the bulge in his jeans against David’s thigh.

David’s quiet when he comes, his face going soft and dreamy as he falls back against the wall. Patrick’s torn between watching David’s face and watching the pulses of come drip over his hand. He manages to catch it all, saving David’s sweater from any stains. He works David through his orgasm, feeling a little giddy with the realization that he’d made David come. When David’s finished, he sneaks his hand up, darting his tongue out to taste him.

“Fuck, you can’t do that when I can’t get it up again,” David groans, pulling him forward for a desperate kiss. Patrick holds his hand away from them, not wanting to risk any drips.

“My turn,” David pants into his mouth. He grabs the lube from wherever Patrick had tossed it, his other hand working on Patrick’s jeans. He has them undone and shoved down Patrick’s hips in an instant, and Patrick would be impressed if he weren’t so turned on. David’s hand slips into the fly of his boxers, pulling him out. There’s slick, wet heat, and Patrick looks down to see David’s hand wrap around his dick.

He can’t help the broken sound that comes out as David starts stroking. One, two, three strokes and then Patrick’s shooting out all over David’s hand. David’s clearly surprised—although at this point, he really shouldn’t be—and some of his come lands all over Patrick’s shirt. Figuring it’s a lost cause, Patrick wipes his messy hand over his shirt. He can see the distaste on David’s face, but that’s not his biggest worry.

“Oh my god.” Patrick groans, hiding his face against David’s chest. It would almost be comical if it wasn’t so embarrassing. How does this keep happening?

“None of that,” David says, the thumb on his clean hand rubbing soothing circles over Patrick’s hip. “Besides, I don’t think it counts as coming in your pants if your dick was already out.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better, David,” Patrick says, but there’s a slight tilt to his lips that says otherwise. “Look… It feels important to me that you know that I’ve literally never had this problem before. I had the opposite if anything.” He’d always made up for not being able to get it up by eating Rachel out, so it had never felt like much of a problem. Half the time he could blame it on drinking, but there’s no excuse for coming too soon.

“Would we call it a problem, though?” David asks, with the same smug grin he always has. It’s not nearly as annoying as it should be. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like we both had a great time.”

“Agree to disagree,” Patrick says, leaning forward to give David a fond kiss. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”

* * *

The next time Ray’s out for poker night, Patrick convinces David to come over. He’s a little hesitant, the idea of Ray potentially walking in on them enough of a turn off to nearly make him overlook the potential of using Patrick’s bed. Ray had walked in on them during a movie date the week before, and even though they’d been fully clothed David had still sworn he was never coming over again.

Eventually, though, Patrick wins out. They pretend that they’re going to watch a movie, but they’re heading upstairs to Patrick’s room before the opening credits end. It’s the first time they’ve done this horizontally, which is somehow even better than grinding against each other standing up had been. They waste no time in stripping, frantic until they’re both in nothing but their underwear. Patrick’s never seen all of David at once before, and it nearly destroys him. He’s panting against David’s neck, torn between telling David how gorgeous he is and begging for more.

“I want you on top,” Patrick decides, sitting back on his knees. He’s getting a little better at asking for what he wants; David’s enthusiasm always serves as positive reinforcement.

“Fuck, yes,” David groans, and then he’s rolling them over. He keeps most of his weight off of Patrick, but it’s still more than he’s had before. It feels amazing, and Patrick digs his fingers into the muscles of David’s back.

“I’m not gonna last,” he pants, but the embarrassment doesn’t follow. This is too good for him to ruin it with shame.

“Good, don’t,” David says, sucking kisses over his shoulder. He rolls their hips together, grinding his dick against Patrick’s. The steady thrusts feel so good, and Patrick’s hands slip down to grab David’s ass. He pulls him closer, setting the pace of their hips, taking, taking, taking. All the while, David’s groaning in his ear, telling him he’s gorgeous, perfect, making David so hard. Patrick cries out, coming and coming until he can hardly breathe.

“Fuck, fuck,” David gasps out, pulling back. “Can I—fuck, Patrick, can I come on you?” He’s already got his dick out, and he’s spreading his precome down and jerking frantically.

“Oh god, yes,” Patrick gasps, eyes wide as he watches David. “Please, I want you, want you to come on me, please, David—”

David’s eyes squeeze shut, and then he’s falling over the edge. His come shoots over Patrick’s chest in warm spurts, and it’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened in Patrick’s life. Patrick pulls his hand up, rubbing the come into his skin, and David keens when he sees.

“So fucking hot,” David says, rolling over and flopping onto his back. “Jesus, Patrick.”

“Next time, we’re taking our boxers off before we start,” Patrick pouts, shifting a little as his boxers stick to him. “This is getting old.”

“Nope, no complaining after two spectacular orgasms,” David says, rolling over to give him a kiss. “Do you think we have time to shower before Ray gets back?”

They probably don’t, but they squeeze into the shower together anyway.

* * *

They have a few more nights in Patrick’s room, and enough close calls that David vetos anything requiring nudity in Ray’s house. The backroom sees a lot more action. Eventually, their after-closing makeouts turn into lunchbreak makeouts, and then they’re stepping into the backroom whenever the store is empty. It’s amazing—everything with David is amazing—but it’s not sustainable. When Stevie offers her room, Patrick jumps on it immediately. He’s glad that she and David hadn’t had sex there, but at this point, he’s not sure if he’d care if they had. All he wants is the time and privacy necessary to finally get his mouth on David’s cock. He’d deal with a lot more awkwardness than one of David’s exes to get it.

Dealing with _two_ of David’s exes puts a brief damper on his plan, but even that can’t stop him. He’s not going to leave this apartment without knowing what it feels like to suck David off. He’s got that determined look in his eye again, and hopefully, David loves it as much as he had the first time.

Patrick insists on getting into David’s pants first. He knows he’s not going to last long if David returns the favour, and he wants to enjoy this. He’s thought a lot about how he wants to do it, and he’d finally settled on lying between David’s legs on the bed. He can grind against the mattress, just a little, and he can watch David’s face the entire time. David’s gorgeous like this. He looks so soft and vulnerable, not hiding behind his baggy sweaters or biting wit. He’s watching Patrick with awe on his face, and his hands can’t stop moving. He strokes Patrick’s hair, slides his fingers over his cheek. His movements are light and gentle, and filled with so much care and affection that Patrick feels like he might burst.

“You’re so good at this, how are you already so good at this?” David murmurs. He gives Patrick a constant stream of praise, his words sliding over him just as warmly as each brush of his fingertips. “Oh, like that, mm, a little harder, fuck—”

It’s soft and slow, nothing like the desperation of some of their previous times. Patrick’s chest feels tight with how much he likes David. Loves him, maybe, but it’s too soon for that. It’s too soon for that, but Patrick still thinks he might. God, he could stay here all day, sucking David and dragging those beautiful noises out of him.

David warns him before he comes, and Patrick pulls off to stroke him through it. He’ll work up to swallowing, Patrick decides. He wants to; he wants everything with David.

“Come up here, need to kiss you,” David breathes. Patrick wipes his hand off on the towel David had put down, and then they’re kissing. He melts in David’s arms, and for a moment he can’t even remember how hard he is.

David slips his hand down to squeeze him through his boxers, and he’s reminded immediately.

“Please, please,” Patrick gasps out. His arousal has been simmering for so long, and now he’s so hard he can’t think.

“I’ve got you,” David promises. He kisses him one more time, and then he’s rolling Patrick onto his back. Patrick tries to watch—he’s jerked off to the thought of David’s lips around him hundreds of times—but he can’t keep his eyes open. David sucks kisses over his hips, bites gently on his inner thighs, teasing and teasing but never giving Patrick what he wants.

“David, I can’t,” Patrick cries, and then finally there’s hot, wet suction on his cock. David laps over the head of his cock through his boxers, getting the fabric wet under his tongue. He strokes him through his fly, pulling back his foreskin and spreading his precome around his head. His mouth comes back, and it’s almost too much even with the rough fabric of his boxers dulling the sensation. Patrick tries to ask for more, and then he tries to warn him, but he can’t get either of the words out before he’s shooting hot jets of come into his boxers. David’s tongue keeps moving, as if he’s trying to suck the come right through his underwear.

When Patrick can finally move again, he leans up on his elbows, looking down at David. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he accuses. “You were _trying_ to get me to come in my pants that time.”

“Mm, but you’re not wearing pants?” David says with that same smug grin that’s all too familiar by now. “Now, if you mean I was trying to get you to come in your boxers, well…”

“You’re such a dick!” Patrick laughs, tossing a pillow down at David’s head.

“Um, rude!” David exclaims. He’s grinning just as widely as Patrick.

“Get up here and kiss me, and maybe I’ll forgive you.”

* * *

They’re two or three hours out from Schitt’s Creek, and David’s asleep against the passenger window. Patrick’s not surprised; David had been very against their six am departure, and he’d only agreed to it on the condition that he got to sleep on the first leg of the drive. It’s past time for Patrick to pull over and switch drivers, but he can’t bring himself to wake David up.

David had been nervous all month about their trip to visit Patrick’s parents. They love David, of course, but David still hasn’t gotten past the discomfort of Patrick’s accidental outing the first time they met. He’d assailed Patrick with questions the entire drive up, wanting to prepare for every possible scenario. He didn’t know what normal families were like, he’d told Patrick. He didn’t know what to expect.

He’d done perfectly, of course. David had charmed the pants off of Patrick’s parents, to the extent that Patrick was starting to think he might be the favourite son. He’d met some of the extended family that would be at the wedding, and they’d loved him just as much. David hated large social situations, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell from how confidently he’d navigated himself around Patrick’s large group of cousins. Patrick had loved every moment of it, loved watching as his family fell in love with the man that had stolen his heart.

There had only been one downside to the visit. Patrick hadn’t even thought of it before the trip; it had certainly never been an issue with Rachel. They’d slept in Patrick’s childhood bedroom on dozens of visits, and it had never mattered that it shared a wall with his parents. He and Rachel hadn’t had sex more than once or twice a week, so it wasn’t a hardship to abstain during a visit to one of their families.

He and David, on the other hand, have sex much more often than once or twice a week. They’ve never gone more than a day or two without at least a handjob, especially not since Patrick got his own apartment. By two days into the visit, Patrick was begging David for more than the chaste goodnight kisses they’d shared. They could be quiet, he insisted. Or they could sneak into the shower. No one would need to know.

David had refused. He was trying his best to get on Patrick’s parents’ good side, and he’d said that overhearing him fuck their son certainly wasn’t the way to do that. Patrick had groaned at the reminder of what they could be doing, but he hadn’t pushed the subject. It was one week, and then they’d be able to fuck as much as they wanted to. He could handle a week. He jerked off every morning in the shower, and he’d assumed that David had done the same thing.

Now that he’s sitting next to David in the car, he thinks he might have assumed wrong. David’s always been a heavy sleeper, so it’s no surprise that he’d immediately passed out in the car. He’s snuffling slightly, never quite the snorer that Patrick is, but not completely quiet either. Patrick thinks it’s cute, so he’s kept the music quiet enough that he can still hear it. David would sleep through anything, so it’s certainly not for his sake.

About twenty minutes ago, David had started to shift in his sleep. Years of sleeping in a twin bed meant that David didn’t move much in his sleep. It made Patrick wonder if he was having a nightmare. He wasn’t sure what he should do; he didn’t want David to wake up in a bad mood, but at the same time he knew waking up before he was ready would put David in a bad mood regardless. He turned down the music, deciding to keep an eye on it. If David seemed too distressed, Patrick would risk facing his wrath after waking him up.

The thing was, David didn’t actually seem that distressed. He kept squirming in his seat, letting out little huffs and hums. Maybe he had to pee? But then David let out a sound that was definitely a moan, and Patrick risked looking away from the road long enough to confirm what he was starting to suspect.

He hadn’t noticed at first, relying more on his peripheral vision than anything else. Now that he’s actually looking, he can see David’s cock tenting the joggers he’d put on for the car ride. His hips are the source of the movement, his dick clearly seeking friction that it’s not getting. Patrick’s more amused than turned on watching him, which is probably a good thing when they’re going 100 down the freeway. He’s grinning as he looks away, already planning on all the shit he’s going to give David when he wakes up.

He honestly didn’t expect it to go as far as it does. If he had, he would’ve done the polite thing and woken David up—and then given him hell about it, of course. Patrick hasn’t had a wet dream since he was fifteen, and he’s sure David hasn’t either. David’s going to wake up in a bit, and he’ll be hard and uncomfortable, and Patrick will tease him about it until his dick goes down. He’s already looking forward to it.

Except, David’s noises start getting louder. He’s not saying anything identifiable, which is a little disappointing. Patrick would’ve been extremely smug if he’d heard David say his name, but he supposes he can’t have everything. When David lets out a moan that Patrick hasn’t heard without his dick in David’s ass, Patrick starts to worry. He glances over again, but then it’s too late. He can see the wet spot at the front of David’s joggers, and fuck, his dick is twitching visibly under the fabric. Patrick might actually be a little turned on from this after all.

When David doesn’t wake up right away, Patrick reaches out and shakes his shoulder. His eyes are on the road, so he doesn’t get to see the expression on David’s face when he realizes what’s happened.

“What?” David says blearily, and then a moment later, “what the fuck?!”

“Did you have a good dream?”

“Okay, you can fuck right off,” David snaps. “Oh my god, how? Am I thirteen again? What the actual fuck.”

“Sounded like you miss me,” Patrick says. He’s sure he looks exactly as smug as he feels. “Makes me think maybe we shouldn’t have gone a whole week without even a measly handjob.”

“First off, nothing about your handjobs are measly,” David says. “Second, I need you to pull over right the fuck now. This is disgusting.”

“Do you see anywhere I can pull over?” Patrick asks, gesturing out the window. They’re well in the middle of nowhere, and Patrick would guess they won’t get to a gas station for at least half an hour. They won’t get to a gas station with a bathroom that David’s willing to go into for at least… well, maybe not until they get back home, honestly.

“What am I supposed to do, then?” David whines. “I can’t stay like this. I swear to god, if these pants are ruined—”

“I’ve got napkins in the console,” Patrick interrupts. He can sense David starting to spiral. “You can use some of the water from my water bottle too. And my duffle is in the backseat, so you can borrow my pyjama pants.”

David whines a bit more, but he slowly starts to get cleaned up. Patrick waits until he’s safely in clean clothes, not wanting to poke him when he’s too vulnerable. Once he’s changed, though, it’s fair game.

“You know, I kind of think this is a taste of your own medicine. Karma, even.”

“Um, what’s that supposed to mean?” David demands. He’s worked up an adorable pout, and if they weren’t on a freeway Patrick would kiss it off his face.

“How many times did you make me come in my pants when we were first dating? What goes around comes around, David.”

“But did I ever make you come in your pants when you were kilometres away from the nearest bathroom? This isn’t nearly the same thing.”

“Again, I’d argue that you did this yourself for making us wait all week.”

“Your parents were on the other side of that wall!” David huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “But I’ll concede your point, barely. Coming in your pants is miserable, and I understand why you always got so worked up.”

“Would we call it miserable?” Patrick asks, glancing over at David with a wide grin. “Because I’m having a great time.”

“Agree to disagree!”

**Author's Note:**

> this marks 100k words that i’ve written in 2020, which is pretty wild considering i’d never written fanfic before this year! only positive thing to come from nine months of isolation tbh 
> 
> it’s also my first time writing anything explicit for this pairing so hopefully it turned out okay?


End file.
